I'm coming home
by tails267
Summary: After a long and perilous journey Galleth is returning to his home and loved ones. Being back where he belongs had it's ups and downs though, as the brave knight soon finds out his world has changed in more ways than one.


**I've got an idea for a Sir Galleth Fanfic but while I'm not sure if I'll actually get round to writing it I decided to write this oneshot for the time being. It sums up the main points of the idea while not reviling too much. This may not make much sense to begin with but it will all (hopefully) make sense eventually.**

**This was inspire by the song 'I'm coming home' (both versions).**

**Sly Cooper © Sanzaru games**

**All OC's © me**

_I'm coming home_

_I'm coming home_

_Tell the world I'm coming home_

_Let the rain wash away_

_All the pain of yesterday..._

The sky above the long rolling moors was dark, great grey clouds hanging like an owl in wait above. The rain poured down, not in large droplets, but in silver streaks, sweeping across the landscape.

Beneath this barrage trekked a raccoon, his fur sodden and his head held high. The rain washed over his blacked armour, cleaning away the marks left from his incredible journey. It had been a long and hard quest, but he was triumphant. And he was almost home.

He looked out across the bleak horizon, seeing the dark silhouette of a castle and the small flickering torches of the town surrounding.

"My kingdom..." He whispered into the breeze.

It seemed like years since he had last been here, on that faithful day be had been outcast. Rejected by his king, his peers and his father.

He remembered it all clearly, too clearly. His first disaster of a heist, his father's disapproval, his dark alliance, the demon dragonfly, his uncle's injury, his exile, the battle of his life. It was all there, the blur of time whirring about in his head.

Dried blood adorned his gloves, just one of many a symbol of his deeds, whether it was his own or not, he wasn't sure. All that mattered was that it was done.

"Hopefully they have forgiven thy mistakes." His large chestnut eyes gazed up at the sky, hope reflecting in the rounded orbs.

Despite the knight's success he hadn't come away completely scratch free, a large scar stretched across his shoulder and down the side of his chest, the wound still oozing slightly. The cool rain aided in numbing the pain, but it wasn't like he could feel much anyway.

Coming over the next rise he was not far now, near enough to the town's outer walls to see the sentries atop the castle battlements, their half-asleep eyes scanning the surrounding area with boredom.

The raccoon allowed himself a small smile, amusement sparking in his eyes. "It seems that much hasn't changed since thy departure. Old King Redfur still has his little lackeys running around after him."

It was a surprise he spoke so fondly of the stoat who had outcast him, striped him of his coat of honour and left him to the crows. King Redfur, at best, wasn't the most kindly ruler you could ask for, but history had seen worse, and the brave knight respected that.

The only thing capable of dampening his mood was a tall pole of rotting wood and iron, stretching in the most haunting way up into the heavens. The final resting place of his father. He gazed at it solemnly a moment, then seemed to gather his posture, physically giving himself a shake.

"That's in the past, I need to concentrate on now." He gave it no more than a passing glance, eyes centred on the path that lead to his homestead.

"I need to get back to the place I belong."

Giving a vigorous war cry he ran down the remainder of the hill, rain whipping his face as he did so.

Xxxxxxx

"The exiled one is back!"

"Our outcast has returned!"

The news had spread across the small village like wildfire, the words plastered across everyone's lips. Crowds began to line the streets, emanating from their cosy peasant homes to see their saviour for themselves.

The knight strode down the familiar streets, his metal boots clanking lightly on the stone cobbles. It was hard to think that only a short time ago these good people had scowled at his presence and flung all kinds of abuse at his delicate heart, scarring him in more ways than one.

Now they cheered him home with vigour; Older noblemen and elders would look on with pride in their eyes, excitable youngsters would point and tug on their mothers dresses while exclaiming something along the lines of "That's the silver raccoon who saved us!" even local young maidens would swoon slightly as he passed, their gentle hearts set aflutter.

The knight gazed at these faces as he past, their features oh so recognisable. There was the kind baker who had given him treats as a kit, the grumpy old tavern wench who used to moan when he would use her cloths line as a climbing frame, the blacksmith who had given him his first sword...

Two castle knights stepped from the masses to block his path, a ginger cat and a red squirrel, their helmets removed and held firmly under their arms. The raccoon stopped short upon seeing them, a coldness stirring in his chest. He greeted them tensely.

"Sir Gordon, Sir Clive, how pleasant it is to-"

The cat held his hand up for silence. Then, looking the gallant raccoon in the eye, the two knights bowed their heads in respect.

"Sir," they uttered in unison.

"_Sir..._" the raccoon mused, returning the gesture. He couldn't really believe how these two honourables had bullied him in the past, pegging him as an insignificant runt of a raccoon and making sure he knew it in the most painful ways possible. Now they addressed him as their equal. It was amazing how quick these things could turn around.

Bidding them a swift farewell he moved at a faster trot across the town, for there was one place where he was needed most.

Coming round the main trade section of the village brought him to a selection of thatched cottages, a peaceful area free from hustle. He traipsed up to the large wooden door of one, nervous in his approach.

"Please lord don't let her be angry..." He sweated, hesitantly bringing a shaky hand up to rack the door. The raccoon took a deep breath, ready to confront the only one who could cause the able knight fear...

"Galleth!"

His mother.

Galleth turned to see an older light-brown furred raccoon, her bright green eyes wide in shock, the pale of water she had been carrying sent splashing across the street.

"Yes, mother." He folded his arms meekly behind his back, looking down at the floor. "I have returned to- _hugnk_!"

He didn't get a chance to get another word in. The female raccoon had rushed forward and grabbed her son in the most bone-crushing hug only a mother could give, sending his helmet crashing to the ground.

"My boy," she cooed, burying her muzzle in his messy head fur. "My brave boy, thee has slain the beast and saved us from the terror of the skies."

"So I have," He hugged her back, relive flowing through him like a river at how the raccoon seemed in good health. She had been his biggest concern during his quest and had constantly worried that his departure would of broken the ageing woman. It seemed to of done the opposite. She pulled away slightly so she could see her son in full.

"I knew thy would do it, that thee weren't involved with that horrible beast! The other village maidens wouldn't believe me when I told them that you would release us, that you would return,"

"Shush," He silenced her with a finger under her chin, knowing that once the keen raccoon got going on something she just couldn't stop. His mother could talk for England. "Doth not worry about that now, I wish to enquire about thine health. I take it you've been keeping busy around the village, your mind-"

"Don't you mind my mind!" she snapped, though not in as much viciousness as she put on. "You know perfectly well that I would cope, one way or another. Oh Galleth, _please_ say you weren't burdened by the thought of my well being the whole time!"

"It would be a disgrace for me not to." He squeezed her small hands, a fond smile creeping across his features. "But that's beside the point, I merely wish to see thy mother happy and well, is that such a crime?" Her expression melted, the irritation draining from her face. It was replaced by a strong maternal instinct no one could deny her for.

"Enough with me, what about you Galleth? You're covered with bumps and bruises, and you feel so thin! I took it to heart that you were taking care of yourself. Do you know what worrying does to a woman of my age? Turns her fur grey! That's what."

He would of argued with her, but it would have been no use. He felt bad for leaving the poor raccoon alone for so long, without a husband or a son, so it was the least Galleth could do to let her fuss over him for once. She ran a delicate paw over his weeping wound.

"Your first battle scar, I presume?"

He winced at her touch, but managed to hide it with a chuckle. "Heh, probably the first of many."

"Your father would have been so proud, and your uncle..." Her expression became saddened, trailing off as her eyes cast downward. Galleth placed both his hands on her shoulders, his face a mask of serious and a tremor shook his voice.

"Mother, where is Sir Toby?"

Her misty eyes met his for a moment, reluctant to say the truth aloud. Instead she swished down the street, signalling for him to follow.

"Come, I shall take you to him."

xxxxxxx

A pretty fox nurse led Galleth through the dimly lit hospice, her face expressing a look of carefully hidden sympathy. She admitted him to an even darker room, then left the raccoon there with the well-meaning proclaim of "If thou shall require anything just call." He bowed his head and thanked her for the assistance. Once she left he turned his attention to the room in which he faced, entering it silently.

It was very dark, the only light source a flickering gas lamp sitting lonely on the bedside table. The lamp illuminated the still body of a male raccoon, lying peacefully on the rooms only bed.

Galleth approached nonchalantly, his helmet removed and held at his side. He knelt down beside the bed, calling softly. "Uncle, is thou awake?"

The bed-ridden raccoon twitched one ear before replying almost sarcastically. "If thy was not awake would thy be conversing with thou now?" He raised his heavy lids, a youthful smile played across his muzzle.

This raccoon was not that different from Galleth, bearing the same basic likeness. It was only the subtle details that set him apart, like being of an older age, mid-forties, and carrying a darker grey fur tone. His attire was made up of the same required armour too, though where he would normally wear a silvered breastplate was wrapped a pasty white bandage, a smeared red mark just visible through the tight cloth.

"Sir Toby, you never cease to amaze me." Galleth smiled back, the fear that he would return to a pale, lifeless corpse gone like smoke in the breeze. "It's good to see you well."

"Thou call this well? I'm confined to a bed all day while I could be out there pulling the greatest heist, or fighting for my kingdom," A natural show of bravo and a slither of regret entered the older knight's eyes. "I could have been supporting you."

"Uncle, I'm sure I'm not the first to tell you that you were not in any condition to fight." Galleth's stated sternly, knowing more than anyone just how deadly the honourable thief's wound had been. "This is the best place for you until your recovery is complete."

"So I'm told daily." Sir Toby sighed, rolling his eyes. His stared downward for a second, then looked back up with a sly smirk. "Yet the fox nurses make up for it, I'd be happy to stay a bit longer for that kind of company."

They shared a laugh at this, then Galleth reminded himself of the reason for his visit. He straitened himself up, speaking in his most knightly voice.

"Sir Toby, I've travelled long and far, over know and unknown territory alike, and defeated the beast that plagued our humbled lands. The same beast that sent you to that bed which you lay now, it is destroyed. Thy can rest assured that revenge has been taken for the creature who has fouled your name and what you do. Honour has been restored to the Cooper clan." He finished proudly, expecting some for of 'well done' or 'congratulations' in reply. He received none.

The wounded raccoon kept his sight line forward, murmuring lowly. "Revenge, Galleth." He looked into his nephew's eyes, pure confusion etched onto his face. "What revenge was there to take?"

"What do you mean what revenge was there? Revenge for you of course!" Galleth exclaimed, feeling somewhat put out. "For the shame, for the pain, for the downright nerve of performing the deed it did!"

"It was never about me Galleth," He spoke with the aged wisdom of one who has lived through the punches."I had no ill will with that beast for what it inflicted of thee, but what it did to our kingdom, and our family." He paused, raising his chin slightly. "It's about you, Galleth. You're the one who was shamed, who was in pain, who needed to confront your demons. You went after the creature who had stolen what you wanted most."

Galleth inspected the boards of the floor, realising the truth to the Knight's words.

"And you did it well."

He snapped his head back up, his uncle beaming at him with glowing eyes.

"I couldn't be more proud of thee, not only for what you did, but how you handled it. You did well not to crack, unlike many I know of who would if faced by the same situation as you."

"I-I just did w-what I believed was best..." Galleth stuttered, thoroughly warmed and surprised by the raccoon's praise. "I-it was my duty."

"No it wasn't. Not one member of this town expected a single young, inexperienced raccoon to do the job of the finest fleet of knights. You choose to do it on your own accord, because you felt that you needed to."

"I guess so." Galleth decided there was no point in auguring with the older thief so let the matter drop.

"And yet," his expression turned serious again. "Though it was a brave act it was also a foolish and reckless one. What if thou were not to return to the place where you dwell? How do you think your mother would of felt if not only her husband but her only son got ingested by an oversized insect?"

"No disrespect Sire, but are you really one to speak? Throwing oneself in front of a demented beast sounds rather reckless to me."

The two 'coons locked eyes in a slight stare off. Galleth held his ground, but Toby weltered under the pressure and broke out into righteous teeth clicking; A sign of merriment.

"You really are my brother's son! I see a lot of him in you Galleth, you both have the very same spirit."

Despite the merry atmosphere Galleth was unable to feel any joy. In fact, it just made him feel colder. "Please uncle, I doth not wish to speak about him."

The wounded knight looked surprised at this, his eyebrows raising enquiringly. "You doth not want to converse about your father? Are you concerned that your emotions will become too much? If that's so then don't be, we are all feeling the loss, even our lousy monarch had the courtesy to look mournful over his death."

"No, it's not that. I just don't want to think about him." Galleth crossed his arms defensively over his chest, lips tight and body stiff. His uncle could read him like a book.

"Galleth?" No reply."Galleth, listen too me now. I know you and my brother never quite saw eye to eye but you can't hold that against him. Thou can doubt, thou can hate, but I know for a fact that your father would of done whatever it takes to keep you and your mother safe. That is why he did what he did."

The knight remained silent, his face expressionless, staring down at the dents in his helmet. A playful light flicked on in Toby's eye; he knew how to bring the younger raccoon round.

"When oneself is bed-ridden one must find their own ways to pass the time. Care to hear a joke?"

The invitation had good intentions and Galleth couldn't ignore the knight's friendly grin. He brightened slightly and played along with it. Besides, Sir Toby's terrible puns were nearly as well-known as his great fighting skills.

"If thou insist, hit me with your best quip."

"What do you call a group of knight's who steal things?"

"I don't know uncle, what do thou call a group of knights who steal things?"

"Knickers!"

It started as muffled sniggering, then onto immature giggling, until finally Galleth broke down in what only could be described as absolute hysterics.

"Oh great lord, whatever drives you to create these jests is beyond me!" He managed to choke out between laughs. The raccoon sat at his uncle's bedside clutching his heaving chest, any passing nurse would of thought he was having a fit. In a way, he was.

"I though you'll like that one," Sir Toby chuckled. "I've been waiting to tell you ever since you left."

It took a good few minutes for Galleth to calm himself down, taking long, deep breaths in and out to try and regulate his normal breathing pattern. He seemed to of cheered up significantly, their earlier conversation forgotten for now.

"Again, it shocks me so how thou can still make such gags when lying in a less than glorious state."

The raccoon knight's expression of mirth abruptly began to fade, opening to one of suppressed depression. Galleth became concerned.

"I-I'm sorry, was it something I said?"

"Not exactly." Sir Toby heaved a heavy sigh. Galleth took this opportunity to really take in how his uncle had changed in the time he had gone and his initial impression had been deceiving. While still rather muscular in built the raccoon had become thin, his arms un-toned and weakened. His fur was the normal dark shade of grey yet had lost some of it's natural sheen, appearing almost dull in the flickering lamp-light. It had come as a bit of a surprise to Galleth that his uncle just seemed so...drained.

"Do you require rest?" Galleth swiftly got up from his position. "If so I shall leave you now."

"No! Don't go yet. There's something we still need to talk about." Obediently Galleth sat back down, his attention fully gathered.

"Now, as you probably knowst I'm not going to live forever." The knowing knight continued before Galleth could interrupt. "Don't argue with yourself, look at the facts, I'm on my last batch of silverware."

Galleth opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. He closed it again and allowed his uncle to speak.

"So I want thou to make me a promise. Be brave Galleth, protect your family, but above all do _not _let the Cooper line die out like the burning end of a waxed wick. There have always been thieves in the world, ones with honour and ones without, and we are the ones with." His eyes burned with the passion of his words. "And honour will always triumph."

"But I don't knowst how to do that!" Galleth's desperation spilled over as these new responsibilities were thrust at him. "What am I to do? Where do I start? You-you can't leave me yet..." His voice lowered to a whimper at the end.

"Yes you do, trust me." A familiar smirk crept across the older knight's muzzle. "You're going to make someone very happy one day my boy, I bet my life one that."

"What do you- oh!" The realisation hit Galleth and he understood what his uncle meant by that last comment. He fumbled with the feather of his helmet, becoming noticeably flustered. "I-I d-don't know about that..."

Sir Toby chuckled in amusement at his nephew's exaggerated reaction. He felt it was only fair to set him right.

"I don't mean right now. Take your time, find the one who's right for you and go about it the way you want. Of course," his tone became mischievous "I'm sure you've already got _some _pretty lass in mind."

"Uncle!" Instead of helping Toby exceeded only in making Galleth more agitated, his face now glowing a blazing shade of red. The wounded knight merely rolled his eyes, resting his head back against the hard white pillow. He was about to offer a more reassuring comment but as he went to speak no words followed. Instead he coughed, rasped even, his carefully controlled condition plummeting in a matter of seconds.

Instantly Galleth was right at his side, the fear he so dearly dread flashing before his eyes.

The raccoon hacked, taking a few gasping breaths.

"I tried to wait it out...until you...returned," Every word was a fight. Ever wheeze was a battle. Galleth rested a comforting hand on his arm.

"You needeth not suffer for my sake."

"Oh, but...I did." With shaking hands Sir Toby slowly went to the back of his head and removed the silken mask of blue tied there. The fabled knot, remaining tight for the whole of his thieving careerer was removed, now tied with expert precision around the face in front of him.

"All I wanted was to see you safe," He smiled through the final hack. "One last time..."

"Doth not worry uncle," A single tear dampened the material of his proudly worn mask "I'm home now."

**Well that was...kinda depressing. It's not often I do character deaths but still ****I****'m quite proud of how this came out, even if I did**** pretty much g****ive**** up with the medieval speech halfway through. I tried but I really think I failed on that note. I apologise for Sir Toby's terrible joke in there but I couldn't resist XD I had to cheer the mood up some way :)**

**Like I said at the start, this is a teaser for my full fanfic idea even if I don't actually write it. **

**Thanks for reading!**


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